A Dangerous Game
by TurianAngelN7
Summary: Ashling wanted more then what her life offered. He gave it to her...but when she runs for it...he brings the world crashing down on her. He has plans and he is going to drag her into them to achieve his goals. Even if that means making her into something she isn't... Rated M for later chapters etc.
1. Devil's Deal

**I DO NOT OWN AND OF THE CHARACTERS DEPICTED IN THE SUPERNATURAL TV SHOW. ANY OC (ASHLING/ETC.) BELONGS TO ME AND YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO USE HER WITHOUT PERMISSION.**

**Thank you and I hope you like. I want to thank my beta reader Hannah for helping me. She knows who she is and she is a lifesaver. I am a very slow writer so please be patient with me. Thank you. I am rating this M for later content as this will be a story not snippet.**

* * *

Blackrock, Ireland: June 16th , 1995: Friday 11:00pm.

Dirt and gravel crunched beneath her flats. She was shaking. She was a scrawny pale little thing. Her hair pulled back into a pony tail. The wind whipped it about. She was knelt down in the center of the dirt and gravel road burring a small tin box she swiped from her mothers closet. Inside she placed a black cats bone, graveyard dirt, and her picture. She looked about nervously. She was afraid. She was standing out in the cold because of a stupid story she had heard at the pub where her mother worked. She wasn't supposed to be there, but her mother seldom came home on time and she often had to go remind her she had to feed her and her sister.

Some prat in the corner of the pub from school was weaving stories of demons who will grant you any wish you had in exchange for your soul and how they appeared as humans looking of what you desired to scare the young girls. She hadn't believed him at first. She was by no means a believer...of God...of anything. Not since her father...well...she let her thoughts drift off. Suddenly, someone cleared their throat behind her, she whirled around shocked to see a man standing there. He was older, slight weight to him, but handsome. Then he spoke. The accent of a Scotsman...great.

"Well hello, darling. What brings you out here to make a deal with the devil hmm?" His eyebrows were raised and a crooked grin stretched across his face.

She felt uneasy. She noticed the wind had stopped and it was like the world was holding its breath in his presence. She swallowed hard and stepped forward.  
"I-I wanna make a deal. I want...I want a better life then what I have. Through dance. I want to be successful at dance!" She didn't want to show just how afraid she was of him.

She looked like a small candle against the night to the man. He looked her up and down. She couldn't be more then 16.

"Come now, love. What has you so keen on selling that soul of yours?"

"I-it is none of your concern," she replied coldly. "C-can you do it?"

"Of course I can," he scoffed. "I am king of the crossroads, love. You do know the price is your soul?" He glanced at her, eyes glinting in the dark.

"I do." She swallowed again. She was starting to shake.

"Alright, love. 10 years. You get 10 years before I collect on our deal. You get what you want and live out this dream of yours. Deal?" He grinned and she swore she saw his eyes flash red.

"10 years?" She thought hard

"Tick tock, love. I don't have all night. I'm a very busy man."

"I-it's a deal!" the girl nearly shouted. "What do I have to do?"

"I seal every deal with a kiss, love," the demon announced, his smirk only growing. "Just one little kiss."

He walked with an arrogant swagger and the girl felt her cheeks grow hot as he approached. She had never kissed anyone before. Especially someone of his...age...or a demon for that matter. She stepped forward. He was tall enough for her to need to be on her tip toes for she was short for her age.

He grinned down at her, and his hands cupped her cheeks as their lips touched. She tensed. He smelt of whiskey. When he released her, she was bright red as she watched as he stepped back.

"There. All done. See you in 10 years, love. Enjoy." Before she could say a word, he was gone.

She felt guilty almost. There was a feeling snaking its way up her spine, but she ignored it and left for home. Her mother might be stumbling in right about now anyways...


	2. Wicked Wicked Thing

**I DO NOT OWN AND OF THE CHARACTERS DEPICTED IN THE SUPERNATURAL TV SHOW. ANY OC (ASHLING/ETC.) BELONGS TO ME AND YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO USE HER WITHOUT PERMISSION.**

**Thank you and I hope you like. I want to thank my beta reader Hannah for helping me. She knows who she is and she is a lifesaver. I am a very slow writer so please be patient with me. Thank you. I am rating this M for later content as this will be a story not snippet.**

* * *

Los Angeles, California: June 15th 2005: Friday 10 am

Ashling had been seeing things. She knew something was wrong, and when she checked her calender, she was right. It was almost time to pay the debt. She booked the first flight to Louisiana, where an old friend was who could help her. Until then...heavy sedatives and praying to a god she doesn't believe in will have to be enough till her plane touches down. The dreams though...those weren't much better.

When her plane touched down, she was immediately ushered into a car and driven to a remote location. Swamp land consumed the back of the property. Ashling now had memories of the time she first left Ireland for the states. She had a performance that night, but it was only the afternoon, so the girl decided to sight see. She wandered the streets and backwoods for hours, into the late afternoon. But then Ashling met someone on those back roads. He was a middle aged man who was pretty terrifying to a naive Irish girl of 18 at the time. He looked to be in his 50's. He was a short man with paint on his face. It blacked the skin around his eyes. His eyes were almost ash in color, and they held time she would never know. His hair was in dreadlocks with salt and pepper patches throughout the pitch black strands. When he spoke his words came out in slurred strings. A richness to them she'd only heard in the blues' halls since her arrival.

The man's eyes were piercing and he exclaimed that he saw something wicked about her. "Cursed one", he called her. One who was destined for darkness and pain. Ashling thought he was crazy, until he told her he could see she had made the Devil's Deal. They bonded. He was so full of knowledge. She found him to be like one of the men who often drank at her mother's pub. Telling her tales of their experiences and stories of monsters and magic. He entertained her with the local lore, wards, and good luck charms. When she left the man that afternoon, he had said that she was always welcome. And she was going to take advantage of that now.

As soon as she approached the door to the broken down Shack the door flung open and her old friend stood with knowing eyes. The past 8 years had not been kind. He looked haggard now, his hair grayer. Eyes deeper, more sad then the last time they had seen one another. When he spoke though, that same richness and backwater slur filled her hear with hope and familiarity.

"Child you need the goofer juice. Come in, we have much to discuss."  
She smiled nervously and walked into the familiar comfort of the shack.

* * *

Unknown Location (Mansion): June 16th 2005: Saturday 10:05pm

A very nervous-looking demon knocks on the door of what looks to be an office.  
"Sir?" he meekly asks. "I-I have news on a collection."

The doors opened of their on volition, and seated at a large oak desk is a man. Clothed in a black silken suit, a blood red tie, and a glass of single malt scotch whiskey in one hand. The man has short hair and a receding hair-line, a bit of scruff too.

"Well?" the man replies, not raising his eyes from his papers.

The demon gulps and speaks again."Uh...sir. It's about the soul of one, Ashling McPhereson."

"What about it." the seated gentlemen inquires bluntly, turning a leaf of paper over.

"She's..running...Crowley, Sir." the timid demon replies.

A wicked grin comes to Crowley's face.

"Perfect." he spat. "Now, get out, you prat. I'll deal with it myself. Your incompetence is astonishing." he retorts. And with that he vanishes from the demon's sight.

* * *

Shreveport, Louisiana: June 16th 2005: Saturday 10:20pm

Ashling cowered in a run-down abandoned shack near the tree lines, away from the gorgeous water of the town. It was pitch black inside. She was crying hysterically.

"Leave me alone!" she screamed. "Please!? I don't want to die!? Make these nightmares stop!"

Her nose and cheeks were puffy and red, her eyes no better. The mossy green of her eyes almost demonic against the bloodshot white. Her hands covered her ears, as the wind whipped the shack. Then came the snarling and snapping teeth at the doors...the Hell Hounds were closing in.

She had barred every entrance with old wood beams and lined them with goofer juice. She had held them off for hours, but they were getting even more brutal.

They had rammed the walls like angry bulls. Every contact sounded like a thunder clap and caused her to jump. On top of all that, the hallucinations were getting worse and worse..gods... the hallucinations. It was maddening. The trembling girl was so wrapped up in her own head, she barely noticed how the wind and dogs had stopped.

It was suddenly quiet. She didn't dare move, because she could still smell the stench of sulfur, rotten flesh, and blood in the air.

A voice called out. Condescending and familiar yet...different. She heard a British accent, but the way he spoke was unmistakeable.

"Come now, love," Crowley said, lacing his voice with charm. "You know you can't escape. We have a contract. You're lucky it's me. I don't show up for nobodies, but I made the deal so I thought I'd stop by."

He sounded confident, but there was an obvious annoyance to his tone.

He passed in front of the shack and took in a sharp breath biting his lower lip, before his lower jaw lay slack as he looked up annoyed that this girl dared try his patience after being so generous. "Love! I can get in there anytime I choose," he stated, in a low rumble. "You WILL pay up."

He walked away from the door a ways, then turned with a grin, his white teeth flashing in the dark. The large moon above illuminated the lonely patch of the earth they inhabited, the wind kicking up once again and snaking under the door. Ashling gasped and sunk against the wall further as she watched the goofer juice dissipate into nothing.

The door flung open with a resounding slam, nails flew from the frame and shards of the little tinted window from the door. Sleek, black formal loafers crunched as heavy foot fall met glass. Floor boards creaked in Crowley's wake. Ashling's head rose with her blood shot eyes and tear streaked cheeks. Her's met the eyes of the man who held her contract. Before she knew it, he had his fist firmly buried into her tangled red mane close to the scalp. He dragged her with annoyance written all over his features and she writhed in his grip, kicking and screaming through tears as she was dragged from the shack. Streaks of crimson blossomed from cuts given by the glass on the floor and gravel from the old road just beyond the thresh hold. She could smell the dogs much more clearly now that she was outside. Her tears wouldn't stop as they stung her cheeks, and when she was released, she lay at his feet weeping and begging for mercy. She said she would do anything if he didn't kill her. The dogs crept closer, snarling as their ghostly prints surrounded her in the dust. She let out a small scream as one snarled just over her shoulder from behind. The hot dampness from it making her whimper in terror.

Crowley knelt in front of her with a wicked grin.

"What could you possibly offer me?" he asked with a taunt to his tone.

The last thing Ashling saw were his green blue eyes, before a searing hot pain enveloped her. His hands were inside of her temples and she screeched wretchedly. It felt like he was setting her insides on fire and melting her flesh from her bones. He was reaching deep into her mind, deep into places she never wished to return.

When the demon finished, she slumped over in a heap face to the dirt, gasping from pain and the sudden need for air.

"What a wicked, wicked thing you are," she heard him remark, a touch of amusement in his voice.

"You don't believe in the Big Man upstairs, but you go to church like a good little Irish Catholic girl, and lie to everyone. You even go so far as to have wished that instead of dance you had wished your mother, teachers, other kids...hell the town you grew up in, dead. Wiped off the map. What I couldn't quite figure out is why, love? Maybe I have use of you yet. You won't die tonight."

Ashling looked up with a glimmer of hope before he snapped his fingers, and the hounds ripped her limb from limb as she screamed out in agony for anyone to help her.

Crowley turned away and looked up to the sky and gave a small laugh as he grinned.

"Well...not technically dead."


	3. Nothing to Numb

**I DO NOT OWN AND OF THE CHARACTERS DEPICTED IN THE SUPERNATURAL TV SHOW. ANY OC (ASHLING/ETC.) BELONGS TO ME AND YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO USE HER WITHOUT PERMISSION.**

**Thank you and I hope you like. I want to thank my beta reader Hannah for helping me. She knows who she is and she is a lifesaver. I am a very slow writer so please be patient with me. Thank you. I am rating this M for later content as this will be a story not snippet.**

* * *

Unknown Location (Mansion): June 20th 2005: Wednesday 7:00pm

The small demon detail patrolling the property were talking to one another about the new guest in the home. No one was thrilled about her presence, especially since she was so nice. She was pathetic and none of them could understand why their boss even bothered with her. They chalked it up to he needed a soul to keep himself warm at night. On occasion they could even hear her...singing. They just couldn't believe they had heard him telling Azazel he had plans to make her a Cross Roads demon and his personal pet. How is it that this little wisp-of-a-woman was climbing ranks before more deserving members. Just as they said that, they heard a window open and music drifted from it. The patrol just shook their heads disgustedly.

"Frank Sinatra.," one of them scoffed. "..disgusting."

* * *

It had been four days since Ashling had her soul ripped from her. Literally. She remembered it so clearly, how it felt as the hell hounds tore her apart, the smell of their wretched breath. She remembered waking up in the dirt road hours later. She was in a short black dress and heels and had instantly tried yanking it down to hide more of herself. The demon from earlier was standing not far from her when she had awoken, Crowley. His smirk and the glint in his dark eyes made her skin crawl.

"What the FUCK did you do to me and where the hell are my clothes?!" she spat, still tugging at the short dress.

The demon's smile grew and became even more wicked.  
"I told you," he replied smugly, leaning casually against the shack. "Not technically dead, love. I have plans for you. Normally, I would have you tortured and so on and so fourth, but there is something special about you, kitten. I couldn't get into parts of your mind and soul, and _that_ in itself is unusual. So..." he began, as he sauntered over kneeling before her and offering his hand.

Ashling took the hand uneasily and when she was on her feet he whispered in her ear like the serpent he was.

"You work for me. I own you. Understand, kitten?"

* * *

Ashling shook her head of the memories. Crowley had been gone for a few days and she was trapped inside the home. It wasn't a bad home just...the others. They hated her and one even tried to kill her, until Crowley reduced them to a smear on the floor.

Ashling was terrified of him. She had made the mistake of arguing with him on leaving and letting her go, and he struck her hard enough for her to kiss the floor. She didn't want to do that again. While he was gone, she was to behave and he had set up visitors for her. She found out what that meant rather quickly. Azazel came the day she arrived to observe her and Crowley had seemed nervous, but he had approved at how obedient she was.

The next day, when Crowley left, the tailor came by to get measurements. She was hoping for pants, but he had said something about 'dresses' being ready soon. The day after that was not a pleasant one, and still sent shutters throughout her body when she remembered it. Alistair had come by, and he told her he was sure she wouldn't escape the rack.

"You will be seeing me soon enough," he cooed, a sound that made Ashling want to vomit. "They all do."

But today seemed hopeful though. She wasn't sure what she would do when Crowley returned, but she had considered climbing out the window when the patrol went to another part of the yard. She had found that the others stayed far away from her as long as she insisted on being bright and cheery. The few female demons who came about wanted to shred her for it.

Then Ashling heard the patrol's foot falls fade away, they had seemed to make their way to another part of the yard now.

Now was her chance.

Ashling quickly took off the heals and crept to the window sill. Ever so slowly, she lifted it, praying that the sill wouldn't creak, It didn't, and soon it was open enough for her to squeeze out. She climbed out, making sure she didn't make a sound, and landed stealthily fully on her feet. She paused a moment, listening and looking about, making sure no one had heard her, then began to run.

She made it to the gates, and decided to test her new body out. Crowley said she'd have 'power' and be more then what she was previously. She jumped upward, landing with grace on the metal top arch. She felt the cool metal against her feet as she shimmied up and over. As she ran, she soon found that the compound was really just that. She made it to the road and was met with nothingness. Forest, and one dark and snaking road to god knows where. She began to walk into the woods, she felt safer there then she did in the open. In the distance though, she heard a howl and ran for the nearest tree to climb.

* * *

Crowley was home, and furious. The demons went scattering as he screamed.

"How the bloody hell did you LOSE her!? She is barely a fledgling of a demon and YOU LOST HER! Useless bunch of stupid prats!" he roared as he stormed out and through the gate.

One demon had enough guts to open his mouth and as soon as he did some blood covered the ground.

"Anyone ELSE have an excuse!? No?! GOOD! Go back to your posts, while I deal with this egregious oversight."

He straightened his tie out and flexed his shoulders before he went to get his pups.

"Think she can just leave when she feels like it this early in the game does she," Crowley thought to himself. "Not yet, Kitten, not yet."

* * *

Ashling had scrapped her legs up pretty bad. She chose a pine...of all trees a pine. She snapped the lower limbs as she climbed, no way was she going to be puppy chow again. Finding a branch suitable to sit on, she sat quietly as she heard heavy paws on the soft forest floor. Twigs cracked and echoed in the dark. She lay flush against the branch when she felt something wet drip on her back.

"Oh no..." she breathed.

"So..." Crowley sneered. "You thought you would leave, without out my express permission right out of the gate?"

She looked just below her. Two, large, hell hounds circled the tree and just off to the side was, Crowley. Umbrella in hand, looking not at all amused. She was going to try to explain when lightning cracked above her, she panicked, and slipped. Crowley watched her fall.

"Hello Darling," he said coolly, as he patted the head of the largest dog. He whistled and the dog bit one of her arms. She let out a painful cry as it dragged her.

The dragging continued to the compound, despite the screaming from her.

* * *

Ashling lay on her bed, in her 'room', stifling the tears. Crowley had had Alistair make a 'surprise visit' and had taken her for a few hours. The Wrack has been her punishment.

Ashling glanced at the antique clock on the wall, it was 4am. She lifted herself off the bed, wincing with every movement, and made her way to the bathroom. She wanted to lay in the tub and try and 'relax'..if that was even an option anymore. She had barely taken two steps, before there was a knock at the door.

"C-come in," she answered weakly.

Crowley opened the door, and Ashling saw he had the maid with him to change the bloody sheets.

"You look like hell, darling." he grinned as he removed his jacket and unbuttoned his cuffs.

"Bite me..." she winced as she moved away from him and towards the bathroom.

"Come now, love," Crowley smirked, loosening his tie. "I am here to extend a hand. You and I will be spending lots of 'quality time' together, seeing as you are my new favorite plaything." he stated as he strolled over to her, and grabbed her bruised and torn shoulders

"Well don't be shy, love," he purred, moving her over to the tub.

Ashling realized what he was implying, and suddenly felt she couldn't breath.

"W-w-what?!" she gasped, looking to him in horror. "I am NOT getting undressed in front of you!"

Crowley's grip on her shoulders tightened, bringing a cry out from the girl's lips.

"It's me... or one of my lackeys... your choice." he whispered in her ear.

She glared at him venomously, before tentatively sliding the dress off her shoulders and letting it drop to the floor. Crowley had the claw foot tub running when he turned around to see her. He grinned a grin that made her skin crawl. Before he could say anything, she got in the tub, her undergarments still on. He rolled his eyes at her.

"Like I haven't seen a woman before..." he muttered in annoyance.

"With most of your deals being with men...I'd say you haven't..." Ashling remarked coldly.

Her snark remark was met with a hard yank of her hair, followed by her head being hit against the tub's edge.

"Ouch!" she hissed.

"Watch it, Kitten." Crowley growled.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked quietly.

She could now feel his hands in her hair, and was met with a sweet scent. It smelled like peonies and white tangerines.

"What? I'm cleaning the filthy scanger scent from you? I can not have you near me looking like the common prattle now can I?" He grinned to himself.

Before Ashling could shoot back a retort, he submerged her head and she came up gasping and sputtering.

"oops," he commented.

She sat quietly stewing the rest of the time. When she was allowed to towel off, she turned around to tell Crowley to leave, but he wasn't there. She walked out to the bed room and saw him standing there, with a red silk night gown in hand. She couldn't help but notice how short it was.

"I am not wearing that." she stated, indignantly.

"Suit yourself then," Crowley retorted. "sleep naked."

Ashling snatched the garment from him, wincing as she did so. The hot bath water had helped a little, but not much. She heard him sighing in annoyance as he came up behind her. She suddenly felt her wet bra being unhooked and her underwear slid down to her ankles. Ashling froze in place. Crowley took the gown from her, and acted as if nothing was going on. It was like he had done this a million times. He slid the garment over her head. Now Crowley sat her down on the bed. Ashling watched him carefully as he'd pulled a box from under the bed, it was a first aid kit. Ashling sat in silence as he set to work on stitching her up. She whimpered and sucked in sharp breaths, seeing as how he didn't give her anything to numb the pain. This was just another punishment. Ashling had a sickening feeling in her stomach that this was mild compared to the days to come.


	4. Repent

**I DO NOT OWN AND OF THE CHARACTERS DEPICTED IN THE SUPERNATURAL TV SHOW. ANY OC (ASHLING/ETC.) BELONGS TO ME AND YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO USE HER WITHOUT PERMISSION.**

**Thank you and I hope you like. I want to thank my beta reader Hannah for helping me. She knows who she is and she is a lifesaver. I am a very slow writer so please be patient with me. Thank you. I am rating this M for later content as this will be a story not snippet.**

* * *

Mansion (Unknown Location):

Months and months of training and torture for disobedience. Ashling felt broken, and the others seemed to like how defeated she felt. She had a little more freedom then before though. She was allowed to make deals on her own. Lately though, when she came back from these petty deals, she noticed Crowley deep in thought, whispering to himself in the dark, something about Winchesters? She couldn't help wondering why a gun company had him so...so tense and almost...happy.  
She watched him walk around with a cocky smile. She had questions, but was tentative to ask, but she took a deep breath and followed him through the house.

"Uh...Crowley?" Ashling began, her voice quiet, as she tried to keep up with him.  
"What?" Crowley snapped back, still walking. "Did you screw the pooch again, kitten?"  
"No, I uh..." Ashling began again, stuttering a little. She screwed her eyes shut, and bit her bottom lip before blurting out, her hands rather animated. "What do you want with a gun company?"  
Crowley stopped walking and suddenly turned back to face Ashling.

"Come again?" Crowley replied, eye brow raised in confusion.  
"Winchesters, their a gu-" she was halted by Crowley's laughter. She felt her cheeks grow hot. "What is so funny?!" Ashling demanded.  
"You, stupid girl," Crowley chuckled, shaking his head. "The Winchesters are a pair of bloody denim-wrapped nightmares and they are hot on Azazel's trail."

He walked into the living room, grabbed a bottle of Craig from the bar and poured two glasses. He handed one to Ashling, who now had a very indignant face on her subtle features.

"Here, love," Crowley began, handing her the glass. "A toast."  
"To what?" Ashling scoffed. "If they find Azazel, won't they try to kill him?"  
"That is exactly it, love." Crowley smirked, speaking softly now, and getting uncomfortably close.

Ashling could smell the single malt scotch whiskey on his breath, and to her shame, she liked the scent. "All part of the plan, love," he cooed. "I have big plans, and once those two stooges take care of Azazel, I can quicken the pace to stage two. Sure, I thought it would take much longer to get this plan going. But then those two show up and it all is just so...perfect." he whispered, his voice laced with satisfaction.

Crowley set the glass down before bringing two hands up to either side of her face. He slid them back into her hair, his thumbs stroking her cheeks.

Ashling began to tremble, her heart racing now. She looked terrified, like a doe.

"Now, love, let me make this perfectly clear. All right?" Crowley began, his voice still soft.

She nodded her head in response, but jumped with a pitiful squeaking noise at his sudden booming voice.

"KEEP YOUR BLOODY MOUTH SHUT OR I WILL CUT OUT YOUR TOUNGUE AND SEW IT SHUT!"

Tears pricked Ashling's cheeks, and her bottom lip trembled for a second.

"Do you understand, kitten?" Crowley smiled, resuming his calm composure.

Ashling again nodded her head, whimpering.

"Good," Crowley replied, smirking and releasing his hold on her face. "Now, go and bring me your report on the deals you made for the day. Come on! I don't have all day! I got a job to do remember!" He laughed, grin wide like a cat, as he snatched his glass back up and walked past her to his office doors.

Ashling stood there, shaking, trying to regain composure before, she could bring the paperwork to him of her deal. He terrified her and she hated him. She wished these Winchesters would just come and off his bloody ass too.

* * *

As she walked to his office, she felt a knot rise in her throat. When she knocked, she heard him beckon her in. Ashling entered the office, trying to keep her heart calm.

Crowley didn't look up from his work as she came right up to his desk.

"Well?" he muttered.

Ashling placed the documents on the desk quietly, and turned towards the door.

"Oh, and Kitten?" Crowley nearly whispered.

Ashling froze, her back still turned to him, her skin feeling cold suddenly.

"Yes, sir?" she replied, her voice firm, though her knees wanted to buckle under her.

"Don't ever try and figure something out for yourself ever again. You're just a demon bitch, MY demon bitch to be exact. And you do what I tell you and ONLY what I tell you. Understand, Kitten?" Crowley's voice was cold and cruel.

Ashling nodded, but didn't turn around.

"Yes, sir," she replied, still keeping her voice steady.

"Excellent," Crowley replied, a smirk on his lips. "Now go."

Ashling walked briskly out of the office and quietly shut the door behind her.

She would show him who was the bitch.

"I'm going out!" she called out back towards his office door "Do you need anything?!"

She heard a grunt of annoyance in reply.  
"No!" came the aggravated reply through the door. "And you better make some deals while you're out!"

She grumbled and stormed out, her heels clicking as she did so.

The guards were going to stop her, but they heard a 'Let her go.' from Crowley's office and obeyed.

* * *

Denver, Colorado: 1:30pm

Ashling wasn't used to disappearing and re-appearing yet, so when she found herself in a crossroads, she felt disorientated. But when she found her ground, she looked to see a boy standing near to her. She noticed he was about her age when she made the deal.

"I want to make a deal," the boy said, a sad smile on his face.  
"How old are you, boy?" Ashling asked him, her face solemn.  
"16 and a half," he replied.  
"Oh my...16 AND a half," the girl muttered. "What is it you think selling your soul could solve that you can't?" she asked him then, crossing her arms. "Love, fame, money, the bullies to go away?"

She circled him like a shark. Part of her was disgusted, but it had become like dancing again for her. Ashling needed the reason, she just couldn't understand what this smart looking kid wanted to die for.  
"N-no...m-my mom..." the boy began, his face contorting into one of pain.

She watched the tears stream down his pale cheeks and she noticed his eyes were so blue, and so full of despair. She knew he didn't feel he didn't mean much, and she cursed under her breathe for that.

"She's dying. Cancer. The Doctors say she doesn't have much time and I don't want to lose her! I don't care if I die, but she has to live!" the young man pleaded, his voice laced with desperation.  
"Parents shouldn't bury their children, son," Ashling replied quietly, looking away from him "Is this really what you want?" she asked as she placed her hands on his shoulders. She watched him closely as he shook his head in agreement. Ashling sighed heavily, and released her hold on his shoulders.

"10 years, kid," she announced coldy. "That's all you get, so enjoy it while you can. Love her every day of it got it?"

He nodded and she leaned down and kissed him softly, before disappearing.

* * *

Blackrock, Ireland: 8:30pm

Ashling staggered to regain balance from the trip. They always made her so tired and she felt a knot in her stomach from the deal she had just made.

That's when she realized she was home...

She looked around and started to run, she hadn't realized she could travel so far without Crowley. When her feet gave out, she saw she was in a small graveyard. She took a few steps forward, not knowing why she had even come here. Everything smelled of salty air and it was foggy. She walked in between the rows, till a name caught her eye. She collapsed onto the damp mossy earth, reaching her hands out to touch the cool grave stone. Her sister's name was etched into it. It wasn't possible…she was alive when Ashling had left home. She shook her head before bringing her hands to her mouth as if to stifle a scream that wasn't coming.

She backed away from the grave, and stumbled as she bolted down the road. She felt an anger she hadn't felt in a long time. She ran to her old home outside of the town. When she arrived at the old rickety gate, she looked passed it to the old home. A tin roof covered the house, rusted over, and the lights were all on, which angered her further somehow. She passed the gate and blew the door off its' hinges, with a crack. A scream echoed from inside, and she saw her mother cowering in the corner. "Merciful god!" the woman exclaimed "A-Ashling?" she whimpered in terror and sunk to the floor in the corner she resided.  
"SHUTUP!" Ashling screamed. "WHAT HAPPENED TO HER!?"

Ashling's eyes started to burn and she could feel the tears.  
"W-w-what do you mean...child?!" her mother cried. "Y-you are possessed!" the woman exclaimed as she clutched the rosary around her neck. She started to pray fervently while her thumb threatened to wear a hole in the cross with how she rubbed it.  
"Why is Branna dead?" Ashling demanded, her voice was now deathly quiet and dripping with venom.  
Her mother stopped her praying and looked up to her daughter, whose eyes were morphing from black to a muddled deep red.

"It was an accident," came the woman's weak reply.  
"HOW YOU OLD BITCH!?" Ashling roared as she hoisted her mother's frail human body with little effort by her throat. "WHAT DID YOU DO!?"  
"Sh-she fell!" her mother choked. "W-we were arguing...sh-she fell!"

Ashling dropped her harshly to the floor.

"She…she hit her head! It wasn't my fault!" the woman continued, sobbing. "She was going to leave me! I grabbed her and she fell! God forgive me there was so much blood!"

Her mother grew hysterical as she scrambled backwards, with a pathetic weeping moan. "Oh God, she...her head hit the corner...the blood...her eyes...IT WAS LIKE A LIGHT WENT OUT!" the old woman wailed, gripping the rosary to her chest.  
"I forgive you, Mother..." Ashling said, her eyes were now an odd shade of burgundy, as she placed a hand on her mother's head. Her voice cold as ice, no expression, only dried tear stains down her cheeks.  
"Y-you do?" her mother asked, trembling.

All Ashling saw now was the woman who had called her a devil's spawn from birth. The little girl, who had to raise her sister after her father...went away.

Here was the woman who was the town whore, the woman who forgot to feed them, the woman who despite all of that loved Branna more because she LOOKED like she belonged in the family. They were all black Irish...but Ashling...she wasn't…she didn't look anything like them. They were darker in tone, brown eyes and coarse black hair. She came out fair skinned, green eyes, fire red hair, freckles...her mother called her spawn of a demon so many times...but her father...her father called her an 'in-between' little girl. The one caught in the middle of the righteous and the damned. His little angel. He was kind and now he's...her sister is dead...both gone because of this woman!

"I forgive you…" Ashling repeated, her voice solemn and flat. "...now repent of thy sins before God."

Ashling's mother's screams echoed in the cool night, mirrored by the howling of the stray dogs roaming the hillsides. 


	5. Festivities

**I do not own any of the usual Supernatural characters. I do own Ashling and the witchdoctor. I apologize it took so long to post the new chapter. Caught the flu so that was fun. Anyway hope you enjoy.**

* * *

Mansion (Unknown Location): 11pm

Crowley sat at his desk nursing a glass of Craig. He couldn't break it. Ashling's soul was unbreakable, kept in a safe spot as his personal toy. After the day's events, he was determined to break whatever helped safe-guard her secrets within it. He leaned back in his desk chair and closed his eyes, thinking back on the delicious sight he waltzed into. He had wondered where his kitten had run off to and followed her trail, and in no time at all he had found her…

* * *

He had walked up to the shanty little hovel of a shack, and saw that the door was clear off the hinges. As he stepped over the broken door, he looked around, blood painted the once wooden walls and was seeping into the wood grain. The stench of dismemberment greeted his nose, and he began to wonder what beast could have possibly caused this much carnage. As he rounded the corner to the small rustic kitchen, he was greeted by a door with a corpse. It may have been a woman at some point, but he wasn't certain. Her own intestine held her to the door, along with what appeared to be her fingernails acting as actual nails. He shivered, a good shiver though, as he turned the door knob and opened the door. He was greeted by Ashling in a corner, covered in blood, shaking and crying nursing a bottle of Jameson. He took a step forward, and there was a wet splash. There was a pool of blood on the floor, and he was none too pleased for it to be on his shoes, but he saw Ashling's head jerk upward to look at him. Her eyes were a wine burgundy. They should be black or red by now not such an intense muddled shade.

"Love?" Crowley began, his expression one of curiousness. "Wha-"  
"I'm sorry!" Ashling cried hysterically, almost pleadingly. "I'm sorry! I-I don't know what came over me! I saw red and...my sister...the grave! She was never home! NEVER! The lights were fucking on and she did it! SHE KILLED HER!" the last bit came out as a choked screech. He watched her devolve into a psychotic meltdown. "I just… I got so ANGRY! The lies and excuses! The damn PRAYING! FORGIVENESS! She wanted FORGIVENESS! Well, I GAVE IT TO HER!"

Her face contorted to pain instead of anger now. "I killed her...my own mother. I stripped the flesh from her bones...the blood...oh god...I painted the walls with it...I...I'm covered...I can't get clean. NOT EVER!" she wept.

Crowley smiled a sickeningly sweet grin.

"Come now, love," he cooed. "It isn't all bad. You got revenge on dear old mum," he said as he walked to her and knelt down. His hand extended out and lifted her chin, so that her eyes met his.

"What I do want to know is why those eyes are that color..." he commented thoughtfully.

* * *

He was brought back to reality when a demon knocked at his office door.

He made a gesture and waved the door open.

"She's awake," announced the demon, "and Dean Winchester has made a deal...for Sam to live again."  
Crowley nodded with annoyance written on his features, and rose from his chair.

"Tell the others I am not to be disturbed," he announced as he sauntered past the demon and down the short steps.

He would deal with this Dean's soul mess later. He rounded the corner only to be met with one of his guard.

"Didn't I just bloody well say I am not to be disturbed?!" he shouted furiously.  
"Sir," the guard began, calmly. "I understand, but word has gotten back that it's beginning..." he stared at Crowley nervously, but looked as if he had just been told he won the lottery.

When Crowley snapped out of his dreamy state, he waved off the demon and walked triumphantly down a corridor that held his room and Ashling's near by.

He knocked on her door, and a pathetic pre-teenesque 'Go away' was heard from behind the door, but he ignored it and flung open the door with a resound smack.

"Get dressed kitten," he announced, a confident smirk on his face. "We're going on a field trip."  
Ashling jumped at the noise.

"What the hell?!" she yelled. "Where are we going at this time of night?!"  
Crowley rolled his eyes, hands in his pockets as he paced near her window, looking over the grounds outside.

"I wish you wouldn't question me as much as you do," he replied in annoyance. "It is both incessant and annoying. We are going to a gate, if you must know. Now...GET DRESSED!" he repeated in a much angrier tone.

Ashling got up from her bed and skitted into the bathroom. She threw on a small black dress on and a pair of heels. She loathed heels and quite frankly, anything Crowley gave her. She couldn't help but wonder where they were going though as she clacked out of the bathroom.

"Don't you look fetching for a whore," Crowley commented, his eyes looking her over with a smug smile. "Come now, must be off. Don't want to miss the festivities."  
"Festivities?" Ashling inquired, an eyebrow quirked.  
He grabbed her waist and grinned. "Azazel's Death love."

Ashling's eyes grew to the size of saucers and Crowley grinned a sickeningly white and vibrant smile.

* * *

Calvary Cemetery, Southern Wyoming:

Ashling and Crowley arrived once it was safe and the 100 mile devil's trap was broken. Ashling's hair whipped around in the wind, her eyes big in disbelief at what was happening. Crowley was next to her with a smug grin as he watched. A young African American man lay dead at the foot of a mausoleum entrance, and a massive black cloud had burst from the doors of this mausoleum. Ghostly figures appeared and reappeared as they broke free from the pit.

"Wha-what is that!?" Ashling frantically asked, over the cracking of thunder and the harsh roar of the wind.

"That, my dear, is a Devil's Gate! Isn't it a thing of beauty?!" Crowley replied, still grinning wickedly.

The lightening cracked light across the sky over head.

"And those young men are Sam and Dean Winchester, the oh-so surly gent, Bobby Singer, and their pathetic widowed bartender acquaintance, Ellen," he announced.

Crowley was almost laughing at the beauty and pathetic sadness he saw in all of this. Ashling turned her attention back to the scene below the hillside they were on. Azazel had appeared behind Dean as Ellen, Bobby, and Sam tried to close the Devil's Gate. Dean had turned to try and fire the Colt at Azazel, but the gun was ripped from his grasp.

"A boy shouldn't play with Daddy's gun," said Azazel with a wicked grin and threw Dean into a headstone with a crack.

Ashling watched Crowley now closely, as he seemed on the edge of his proverbial seat, as Sam left Bobby and Ellen to aid his brother in vein. Azazel slammed Sam to a knotted dead tree hard with only his mind and pinning him there. Azazel grinned wildly at him.

"I'll get to you in a minute champ," Azazel grinned wildly at Sam. "But I'm proud of you! Knew ya had it in ya."

Dean was trying to stand to aid Sam only to be held against the headstone like Sam to the tree by the force of Azezal's mind. Azazel's yellow eyes burning brightly in the dark as he chuckled,"Sit a spell." And then approached the pinned down Dean, crouching before him.

"So, Dean. I gotta thank you," Azezal began with a wicked smirk. "Ya see, demon's can't resurrect people unless a deal is made. I know, red tape, it'll make ya nuts!"

He rolled his eyes, moving his head in a matter-of-fact sarcastic way as he spoke.

"But thanks to you!" he mused. "Sammy's back in rotation!"

He clenched his fist as if to show victory, a chuckle leaving his lips.

"Now I wasn't counting on that, but I'm glad. I liked him better than Jake anyhow. Tell me", he paused for a moment, and leaned in closer to Dean." Have you ever heard the expression 'If a deal sounds too good to be true it probably is?'"

Dean was grinning in the face of Azazel this whole time and Ashling could hardly believe anyone was that stupid or brave.

"You call that deal good?" Dean spat sarcastically.

"It's a better shake then your dad ever got and you never wondered why?" Azezal inquired, still smirking triumphantly. "I'm surprised at you. I mean...you saw what your brother just did to Jake, right? That was pretty cold wasn't it?" He laughed wickedly. "How certain are you that what you brought back is 100% pure Sam?" He cackled this time, as Sam looked at them struggling hard against the invisible chains that held him to the old tree. Dean looked at Sam with sudden flashes of wonder and doubt at what he had done.

"You of all people should know that what's dead should _stay_ dead," he almost whispered to Dean.

Dean sneered at him and watched him rise.

"Anyway," Azazel began, "thanks a bunch. I knew I kept you alive for some reason. Until now anyway, I couldn't have done it without your pathetic, self-loathing, self-destructive desire to sacrifice yourself for your family."

With those words, Azazel raised the Colt up towards Dean's head. Ashling watched as worry crossed Crowley's face, but tried to focus on what was happening. Then she caught sight of one ghostly figure that didn't just walk by, but instead materialized behind Azazel. Dean had a look of shock and disbelief on his face, as the figure grabbed hold of Azazel's demonic self from inside the meat suit he had borrowed. The man whom Azezal had possessed fell to the ground in a heap, as the dark figure held the black smoke in its arms.

"Well, Johnny boy may win this for me after all," Crowley muttered under his breath never looking away from the scene. Ashling had heard that name before…is this the John Winchester that months back she had heard had arrived in Hell? She remembered his screams...they offered him so much if he would just torture another person. He refused. Over and over...and over. She had felt badly for him. Now he was escaping hell and had Azazel in his grip, she couldn't look away now.

John began to wrestle with the form only for it to break free of his grip, sending him to the ground. The form rose up and siphoned back into it's formal vessel. Azazel rose to his feet, only to face down the barrel of the Colt. Dean pulled the trigger, the hammer went back, connected, and a bullet whizzed through the air and struck Azazel in the heart. Azazel looked down and looked at Dean mouth open in shock. Seconds later, his body spasmed, as light lit him up from inside. Images of his ribs and spine flashed, orifices glowed in bursts of yellow, with the crackling of each spasm. Then nothing, and Azazel fell to the ground with an almost electric trail from the bullet wound. A small puff of smoke trailing along with it as the yellow light in Azazel's eyes dimmed and reflected the night sky, just as Ellen and Bobby shut the Devil's Gate.

Ashling watched as the boys were freed from their holds, and she wanted to watch how it ended between them and their father. But Crowley tugged at her waist roughly. She hadn't even noticed that he had never relinquished his grip around her waist from the beginning of this whole thing. She was about to object, but in a flash they were 'home' once more and he was already on his way out again.

"Crowley!" Ashling objected. "Wait a minute!"

"No time to chat love,"Crowley replied shortly. "lots of work to do. It is about to become very chaotic around here!"

His laughter along with his footfall faded into the darkened hallways of the mansion, leaving Ashling there, alone with a sickening feeling that traveled down her spine.

Things were about to change and she had a feeling it wasn't for the better. 


End file.
